


ashes in the cold

by OhMaven



Series: The Writing's On The Wall [1]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: F/M, Ficlets, Major Character Injury, Minor Character Death, Rebelcaptain - Freeform, Violence, vengeance themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-12
Updated: 2017-08-20
Packaged: 2018-12-14 08:17:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11779086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhMaven/pseuds/OhMaven
Summary: There are many adages about vengeance; many cautionary tales, and many warnings against it.Sometimes, it's best to ignore them.





	1. Before

**Author's Note:**

> I was challenged by a friend to write 500 words with the following prompt: eye for an eye, blue, and rain. Naturally I turned it into a RebelCaptain fic. lol (Every chapter is going to follow that challenge!) So...this one is for my darling Riabunny. <3

His blue coat crumpled in her fists; it was streaked with dried blood, and rain, and Jyn tasted bile on the back of her throat. The man, himself, was nowhere to be found and that was a problem, to put it mildly. Jyn sat back on her heels, bringing the parka with her.

"Jyn?" Bodhi's voice crackled over the comm. "What's going on out there? With the rain, I can't _see_ anything."

She ought to answer, Jyn knew. Her pilot was going to worry - and perhaps rightly so - but there weren't any words, so she didn't speak. Moving to her feet was thoughtless, like the grip on Cassian's parka; sliding her blaster from the holster was much more deliberate.The mission was meant to be a quick one, they hadn't expected to encounter a fight at all. Blood stains on his coat told a different story, and the blackness (of the hatch, of old memories and older pain,) threatened to swallow her heart. Jyn blinked the rain water out of her eyes, and set her gaze on the small outpost below the hill on which she stood.

What was that old adage, the one Saw had sworn by?

_An eye for an eye; and a tooth for a tooth._

It seemed fitting, now that she'd done right by Galen, that she was going to embrace her identity as Saw's daughter. (She'd pretend for a moment that he would have approved of Cassian; even though she knew better.) Jyn waited a few minutes for darkness to settle, and then she crept down the hill, sliding here and there in the thick mud. It didn't occur to her that she might not come back from this; that she might die in this sticky mud, with Bodhi's desperate voice echoing from her pocket. It didn't, honestly, *matter.*

The old outpost wasn't well guarded; the silencer on her blaster muted the shot that exploded against the 'trooper's unguarded head (where was the idiot's helmet?) He dropped, and a heavy kick (or two) sent the wooden door crashing into the barracks. Three men, all in their sleep clothes, rolled off their bunks - and into her blaster fire. One of them managed to reach his own blaster, and the lucky shot pierced her side, blooming into white-hot pain. Jyn slumped against the door frame, but riddled his body with shots of his own, until no one in the small space was still breathing.

No one but herself, and the ragged gasps that tore free of her throat.

Slowly, Jyn sank to her knees, pulled the battered blue coat to her stomach where she pressed it tight. If Cassian was dead, what did that mean for her? She closed her eyes, and swallowed hard. Loss was too familiar for tears, but it didn't mean the ache was any easier to carry. Her chest felt heavy, and she didn't think moving was an option.

"Jyn?" This time the voice wasn't Bodhi's. She willed her eyes to open.

_Cassian?_


	2. Then

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was challenged by a friend to write 500 words with the following prompt: eye for an eye, blue, and rain.

Water mixed with the slowly-congealing blood on his hands and forearms; turning the whole thing even more into a sticky mess. Cassian didn’t like the feeling, but didn’t have time to  _ do _ anything about it. The ship was in view, he could just see it between fat drops of rain that fell from the sky and dripped from the long mop of his hair.

He tried not to think of what he must look like, emerging from the rain, spattered with blood and gore. The Rebel Intelligence Officer had taken many lives (so many,  _ too _ many, his mind supplied instead of a rational number.) This one shouldn’t bother him more than the others and yet, somehow it did. (Perhaps because of the desperate pleas that were unintelligible but still slipped between ruined lips and broken teeth, or because of the way he’d watched the life fade in those sky-blue eyes until they matched the color of a gray, rainy, day.) Usually the cool distance of a scope, or the quick tug of a trigger, kept his kills clean and forgettable. None of the other faces haunted him at night anymore, blending and blurred as they were.   
  
This one, he suspected, would be sticking around for awhile.   
  
Bodhi was waiting at the bottom of the ramp, pacing nervously. Underneath his swarthy complexion, he was pale and anxious; Cassian could  _ always _ tell when the pilot was nervous - his hands fluttered even more than usual.   
  
“Captain!” The pilot sprang forward, as if he’d been waiting on the balls of his feet to take off into the air in flight, without needing a ship at all. “Captain, what….what  _ happened? _ ”   
  
Cassian’s teeth ground together; he hated being called by his rank - at least by the others in their crew - on a good day, but tonight it only served as a reminder that he was nominally in charge; that Jyn’s injuries, this young Imperial-sympathizers’ death, were all on his shoulders more than anyone else.    
  
“Where is Jyn?” He answered, question for question, uninterested in answering  _ anything _ until he knew how she was.   
  
“Still breathing,” Bodhi said, hands fluttering in front of his chest. “But...she hasn’t woken up yet.”   
  
It was all the answer Cassian needed, moving past Bodhi and up the ramp. “Get us ready to leave here, Bodhi. I got what we came for.”   
  
Of course, the disc of information in his pocket wasn’t the most important thing to Cassian. For  much of his life, the Rebellion  _ had _ been the only thing of significance - and then Jyn had come along, and changed everything, himself included. As Cassian looked at his hand - the blood on it smearing the console of the keypad outside Jyn’s door - he couldn’t honestly say it was all for the better.   
  
He could see for himself that Jyn was breathing, but...it wasn’t enough. Cassian sank slowly to the floor, his hand hovering slightly over the face he wanted to touch so badly, and whispered: “Eye for an eye, Jyn.”


End file.
